Here I Go Again!

As determined as I was to lose weight before the cruise, watching what I ate and exercising by Walking with Leslie several mornings each week, nothing really changed.  The result was that most of my clothes felt too tight.  I could feel (and see) the rolls where there shouldn't be rolls.  I ate too much on the cruise, as most people do, and it showed by the end of the week.  My face looked fuller in the pictures, and I stressed about how I appeared and was distressed about losing control and gaining back pounds that I had worked so hard to lose.

Many of the Dotti's ladies are following the LCHF plan and before the trip I saved a copy of the simplified plan which listed foods that were good to eat and those to avoid.  Also included were guidelines to follow. What I liked was that there is no calorie counting, no weighing, no portion control (well, a little), and the only thing to cut down on is carbs.  That means lots of things I like, such as pasta, rice, fruit, crackers, and bread.  But it also means more of vegetables, meat, fish, and chicken, which I really like too.  Since the refrigerator was basically empty after we returned from the cruise, it seemed like a good time to start.

Cooper went with us to Krogers.  We stocked up on romaine, lettuce, radishes, mushrooms, and cauliflower.  We perused the fish and selected some salmon and shrimp.  We did pick up some fruit (I could eat 1 cup each day) and some other things that Gary really wanted.  For three days I did well. 

Effects?  First of all I noticed that I was losing a lot of fluids.  Running to the bathroom was the pastime of Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday.  I also noticed that I wasn't hungry as much.  I supplemented with SF popsicles and lots of fluids.  The biggest plus was putting on a pair of jeans I wore last weekend and they were much looser. 

They say that I will feel full eating on this plan.  They say that I won't miss the carbs after I adjust to this plan of eating.  They say that weight loss will be consistent for the first few weeks.  They say that this type of eating with help to lower blood pressure and that those taking BP meds should be careful wen adapting to this plan.  That's me.  But if I can help lower my blood pressure, that would be a great benefit.

My goal is twofold.  First, I need to find a good place to settle where my eating habits are concerned.  With WW, I know that I need to count points, watch portion control, but I can eat just about anything as long as I count the points.  The problem with that is that I will give myself a little bit of leeway and eat a baked potato, then another, then add some Red Lobster biscuits, then a dessert, then an ice cream cone and I am off the plan completely and there has to be a wake up call in a few months.  I need to remind myself that I don't need to eat the bread.  I can skip dessert.  I can choose broccoli or another vegetable instead of a baked potato.  Yes, I could do that on WW too, but I think I can 'avoid' better with this plan.  Off limits, rather than 'eat it and count the points.'

Second, I like my size 12 clothes.  I was comfortable last summer wearing those clothes and I want to continue to do so.  They just need to fit better.  I liked the way I looked when I was thinner and I want to return to that.  I want to be healthier.  I want Dr. Oletjin to be pleased when he sees my blood pressure numbers in May.  I want my ankles to stop swelling, and they were swelling every day recently.  Water retention.

So here I go again. It is only Day 4, but I feel good about the new plan.  Snacking was a problem so I bought some pork rinds, pepperoni slices, and pepperoni sticks for my snacks.  I like eggs over easy on a slice of bread so we picked up the Sara Lee Healthy  bread tonight also.  Lower on carbs for one slice than other bread and I can still enjoy my eggs over easy.

I am excited to see where I am at the end of April. When I pack for the trip to South Carolina, will I be smiling about the tops I toss in the suitcase, knowing that they will fit nicely and not be snug and show a roll of fat above my waistband?  Will I pack a few pairs of shorts because I know I will feel comfortable wearing them on the beach? I hope so.  That is my goal.  Plus I know that Gary and I can make good choices with the foods we buy for our kitchen for breakfasts and select restaurants that will help us stay on the plan.  It's good for him too!

Here I Go Again!  I hope that this time, this way of eating becomes a lifestyle.

The Sounds of Silence

No, not Simon and Garfunkel exactly.  But the idea is similar.  Sounds of silence. 

Today's Zip It devotion (the book I am reading for Lent by Karen Ehman) focused on silence.  The title?  "When You Think You Know Why: It's Time to Be Silent."  As I read the FB post about today's devotion, one comment intrigued me. The writer said that she had highlighted and underlined so many passages in the chapter, that it had really spoken to her.  When I finished the 5 pages, I found much the same.  Yellow highlights and black underlines and many stars. 

Why?

Because the silence really spoke to me.

Why should we choose silence?

1. Friends need support, not lecture.   How many times is just the presence of a friend more beneficial than the words she says?  One may not remember anything that was said, but more the fact of being there, for support, to listen.  
2. Every story has a supernatural side.  Really?  But after I read the narrative, I agreed.  No one but the person knows the situation, the circumstances, the emotions felt, the tone of the words spoken...no one can presume to totally understand.  Totally.  One thing that always aggravated me was another person trying to tell me how to handle a situation in my classroom or with a student.  If I just vented to a colleague (or even someone not in the education field), the last thing I needed to hear would be "Well, you should have done this or that." or "I would have done this or that instead of what you did."  Or worse yet, interrupt me before I was finished and try to interject their own expertise into my situation, discrediting what I had done without even listening to the entire scenario.
3. We might be remembered only for our response.  As a teacher there were things I repeated over and over for my students to remember.  I always find it interesting, however, that sometimes they will share with me things that I said or did that THEY always remember that have totally escaped my memory.  I always think, "Really?  I don't even remember saying that and you remember it?"  There is always a follow-up comment about how that particular comment made an impact or hit something important to them.  Another reason why we need to choose our words wisely because we never know the impact they will make...or how they might be remembered!
4. Our words could incite God's anger.  Wow. This is scary.  I don't like to think of God as being angry, but of course there are many reasons in this world for Him to be displeased with His children.  God does possess knowledge beyond our understanding and to second guess Him is just not right.
5. When we practice purposeful silence, we create space for the suffering person to reflect, process, and grieve.  It also allows them someone to talk to---when they are ready.  You know, when I think about good friends, those who come to mind are the ones who, when I need to talk, just listen.  Karen Whelan was like that.  She just listened.  Kathy is like that too. She just listens.  I used to think that when someone said nothing it indicated boredom or disinterest, but it really doesn't.  Well, it could, I suppose.  But a good friend will listen to another, giving that person space to reflect and ponder, process, and come to her own conclusions rather than overwhelm her with endless advice.

Lots to learn in the five pages today.  I hope that I can change my methods of talking and listening so that I can be a better listener.  I have been trying to slow down, to not share too much, to keep quiet.  I did fairly well on the trip to Birmingham, on the cruise, and while we were in New Orleans.  More quiet than talking.  Just listening.  

Sunshine...on my shoulders...makes me happy!

What a way to start a vacation!  This is what we saw  out the window the morning we left for points south on March 15:

Snow, snow, snow.  Wet, heavy snow.





Soon we were out of the snow-covered roads and on our way to Birmingham, Alabama for our first stop on the trip.  Birmingham, Port of New Orleans, Cozumel, Progreso, New Orleans, then home.



This is a picture of Gary and me enjoying the sunshine at the state park we visited in Cozumel.  The water was so blue, the breezes warm, and the sunshine HOT.  It was perfect. I wish we could have spent more than just the morning hours there.  Maybe we should return sometime?

I Just Hate to Pack

Traveling is fun, isn't it?  Getting away from the daily routine.  Seeing new places.  Resting and rejuvenating.  Trying new foods and restaurants.  Sleeping late.  Staying up late.  Doing something completely different than the norm. 

But getting to that point is what I just don't like.  Packing.  Ugh.

I drag my feet each time Gary and I plan to travel somewhere, even if it is to spend the night with one of the girls or go to Ohio for a few days.  I just don't like to pack.

A few years ago I put together three mini-bags of supplies.   A bag of toiletries - shampoo, lotion, shower gel, toothpaste, toothbrush, picks, hair goo, deodorant. It's all there.  There is a make up bag with cleanser, moisturizer, and a tube of foundation plus a small spray bottle of perfume, some bandaids, a nail file, and a pair of scissors because you just never know when something might need to be cut or trimmed (like bangs on my forehead).   The third bag is for my meds, the hearing aid case and batteries, my glasses case, and the chargers for whatever devices I am carrying around with me.  These stay in  my Vera Bradley duffel bag, ready to go.  That should make packing easier, right.  Wrong.

The problem comes from trying to figure out what to wear for the activities that are planned.  What coordinates?  What kind of shoes are needed? What will the weather be like?  Do I have everything I need for possible changes?  What if we go out for dinner and I am underdressed?  Over dressed?  Ok..I worry too much.  I know I do.  So I end up with too many clothes or not the right type or weight.

I remember our trip to Kentucky in August when Megan was just little, maybe 1 or 2 years old.  One would think that in August in southern Indiana and Kentucky that shorts and tops would suffice.  Well the temp dipped into the 50s and 60s and here we were with no heavier clothes.  We had to find a store and shop for longer pants, a few long sleeved shirts, and a light jacket for her.  That was the beginning of my dread of packing for trips.  I am not sure how I managed to pack for both girls and for myself when we traveled to Ohio or on other trips for a week's time.

This time we are packing for a cruise.  Not that in itself would not be too confusing on what to take, but we are stopping first for a day in Birmingham, Alabama to visit friends of Karen and Clay's then we will stay in New Orleans for a couple of days after we dock on Thursday.  That puts a different spin on things.  Cooler weather in Alabama which means jeans and heavier tops and a jacket.  In New Orleans we will probably be dining out on Friday especially, maybe on Bourbon Street, which might make an outfit nicer than denim a good idea.  Of course there will need to be shoes to match also. 

And with shoes?  My feet have been swelling the past couple of weeks so I need to wear something that is comfortable and also will not make my feet look like those of an elephant.

What kind of jacket to take?  Something light? Heavy?  In between?

Can a beach coverup double as a robe?    How many swimsuits are needed?  What about deck shoes or flip flops? 

And a Captain's dinner?  That requires a dressier outfit plus extra jewelry.

What did I spend this afternoon doing?  I was upstairs in the bedroom pulling out capris to try on, checking for pajamas, raiding the drawer where I kept the summer tops and trying to plan a wardrobe which would work.  I think I have it.  Even though the winter pounds are there, most of the capris still fit ok.  Sigh of relief. 

Now to figure out how to pack a bag for Alabama that will double for New Orleans, a separate bag for the ship, and a carry on for use from the time we board to the time we can go to our cabin. 

Tomorrow will be re-arranging, checking for things I might have missed, and putting it all together in as concise a manner as possible.  Then off we go on Wednesday for 11 days of fun with family, exploring new places, and trying new foods.

April will be a calm month, I hope.  Just one trip to Ohio, then in May I will go through this all again as we pack for a trip to Charleston and Myrtle Beach. 

I like to travel.  Really I do.  I just hate to pack.

Starting the Day with a Bottle of OJ

And that is the way it happened.

Landon spent the night last night and wanted to sleep in the Big Bed with Mamaw, but he asked for the 'switcheroo' which always means Papaw will be there when he wakes up and Mamaw will be sleeping in the bed in Aunt Megan's room.  Well, the 'switcheroo' didn't happen last night, and when he woke up, I was still there.

I vaguely remember him waking up and checking to see if Papaw was in the other bed.  Then I heard him padding down the steps as I rolled over and shut my eyes again.

The next thing I knew Landon was standing beside the bed holding a bottle of Trop 50 in front of my face. What????

He started to laugh, the said "Look, Mamaw!  Look at Papaw!" Gary came up the steps, carrying a tray.

What a feast!  A box of glazed donuts.  A bowl of strawberries/raspberries covered with vanilla yogurt and sprinkled with granola.  A individual cup of Fruity Pebbles.  A small bottle of chocolate milk.  A small bottle of white milk.  A bowl of strawberry mini-wheats.

All this time, Landon is grinning from ear to ear, and he said "It's breakfast in bed for you, Mamaw!"

Gary said later that it was all Landon's idea.  We found out that he wanted to do something similar for his mommy and daddy and tried the previous weekend but he had trouble carrying things upstairs.  What they had to do was put a donut on each of two plates and he carried one and Tessa carried the other upstairs for their folks.

What a sweetie he is!  That made my morning, my day, my week, my month!  I love that little guy so much, and I have missed his staying overnight with us.  I am very blessed, that's for sure! 

We have a plan.  The next time we stay overnight at his house, Landon will fix Breakfast in Bed for his folks, with help.  They will be in for a treat!

Negative Thoughts

I mentioned before about the Lent devotional I am reading, Zip It by Karen Ehman.  The Keep-It-Shut 40-Day Challenge.

The lesson so far has been, in a nutshell, to select our words wisely, to focus on positives rather than negatives, and to change our way of thinking which will impact the words that we write and speak and tumble around in our minds.

Today I'll try to tie two things together - negative words and talking to Mom.

I mentioned previously that part of my conversational plan with Mom was to start her thinking and talking about geneology and take notes for Megan's research.  That worked well since many older people have sharper memories about events and people from the past.  Plus Megan would be super excited about new information that she could add to the family research which has been her focus.

After listening to her for two days, I realized that everything she shared had a negative spin to it.

One name I questioned was an adopted daughter - raised by my great-grandparents because her parents didn't want her

The daughter on one of Grandma Greta's aunts worked in a bar and was a harlot

One aunt and uncle of Grandma's didn't have any children --- at least in the marriage. Of course he had lots of other women he supposedly visited frequently

Uncle Don was married to Grace.  And Clara.  And there were three more at least.  No names because he didn't bring them around too much and she didn't remember all of them.

Uncle Elbert and Aunt Dora had 8 children.  Jeanne Ann.  Mary Louise.  Barbara.  Ethel.  Gary.   Then there were Jeff and Susan who they SAID were their children but they were really Barbara's children.  Wait.  8 children. Oh yes.  8.  There were  (hushed tones ) at least three abortions.

Another aunt had to be illegitimate because she looked like no one else in the family.  Mom thought there had been a rape and the baby was passed off as the daughter when she really wasn't.

One of Dad's cousins didn't know who his father was, which was a shock to Dad.  During one visit he told Dad that he knew that Dad's aunt was his mother, but he really didn't know who his real father was.  Dad was shocked.

One of Mom's cousins lost one son in a car accident, another to a bar fight, another in Vietnam.

One man who was a Quaker was a big drinker and was drunk all the time.

Another woman had burns all over her arms (found by the funeral director after her death).

The son of one of the cousins was in trouble constantly and spent more time in jail than in 'real life.'

Another woman made pies by just dumping pumpkin into the pie shell with no seasonings whatsoever and was such a horrible cook.

One man didn't own any of his own property.  Plus there were some shady things happening with his finances when he was about to die.

Another man racked up such a huge debt at the hardware store that when his young son returned a left handed ball glove to exchange for a right handed glove, the proprietor took the glove and kept it.

I didn't hear anything about great cooks, happy families, fun times with reunions, good conversations, quilting parties, flower gardens, fun life on the farm, nothing positive.

As I thought about it, and through reading the devotions from Zip It, I know why I struggle so much with positivity.   Even though I tried so hard to be positive with my students, to help them succeed, and I hope to be positive with the girls when they were little and even now, I still struggle with being positive in my personal thoughts - about myself.  My merit.  My worth.  Could that be because of all the negative things I always heard as I was growing up? 

Mom has always focused on the negative about me, about Greta, about my family, about Dad, about the neighbors, about their friends,  and about life in general.  She still does. Why is that?  What is the good that comes from constant negativity?

To tie this all together - the study of Zip It so far has been enlightening in many aspects of my life, from organizing my thoughts, to conversations with Mom, and to focusing on the positive rather than negatives not only in conversations but in life.

And I also firmly believe that even though Mom will never change, I can control what I think and feel and how I react---positively.

A Thousand Acres

This was the latest book selection from Overdrive which popped up for downloading just before we left for Wooster.  I was on the Waiting List for several books; this was the first of three which popped up as Available in a 48-hour time frame.  I started the book, read a little each day, then hit it hard on the drive home.  I was so engrossed into the book that I stayed up late to finish it last night.


This is the first book I have read by Jane Smiley.  At first I identified with the characters and the subject.  After all it was a farm setting in the Midwest.  The family farm had grown in acres over the span of several generations.  The patriarch was well-respected in the community and since he had no sons, his daughters' husbands continued the family legacy.

As I read I could hear my father-in-law and my husband discussing similar topics - who had started planting.  A new tractor that a neighbor had purchased.  Nitrogen tanks appearing in the fields down the road.  Harvest starting rather early....or late for that neighbor two miles over.

And yes, we could stand in the yard, look across the fields and see Ann and Bud's buildings to the southeast.  We could look to the north and see Nielsens and Howard and Judy's house.  Sometimes we could see the dust flying across the ditch to the south at Duck Island.  All of this sounded so similar to the accounts of the families in Smiley's book.

When Harold went out to make one more round side-dressing, showing off his new tractor, and when he didn't shut off the tank when he dismounted the tractor to check a clogged knife, I knew that a disaster was about to occur.  The disconnected hose sprayed Harold in the face, causing permanent blindness.

Yes, there was much in the novel with which I could identify.  But oh my...there was SO much that was not part of the life of this farmer's wife.   No alcohol abuse.  No sexual intimidation and abuse.  No lawsuits between the family members.  No injunctions to stop construction on new hog buildings, thus ruining the plans and dreams and causing financial ruin.  No one drove a truck into a gravel pit and drowned in our family.  No one walked out and left her husband to try to make it on his own with no help on the farm.  The farm wasn't sold to a huge corporation and none of the houses were bulldozed to make room for more acres to plant, thus erasing any remnant of the family that lived there for many generations.

Although none of that has happened, the last sentence in the preceding paragraph has been something I have thought about with our farm.  Now that the main house is not occupied, elimination of the old family home could be a possibility.  Gary isn't 'farming' the land this spring and eventually the land may be sold, losing any and all remnants of the 'family farm' heritage.

Reading the book was partly like reading about our lives, but there was so much that was NOT familiar, luckily, and so very tragic.  A reader such as myself with a farming background can read the book, find some similarities and nod, but frown and shudder when some of the differences scroll across the page.  For someone who is not farm oriented, reading the book could paint a distorted picture of the family farm heritage from years, one that I don't find particularly typical.

It would be interesting to discuss the book with others.  Anyone want to read it?

Muddled Memory

When we visited with Mom over the weekend, we noticed that her memory is muddled which is a definite sign of dementia.

I had decided before we visited her a plan for conversing.  She knows so much about the family history and since Megan is working on geneology, this would be a great topic for conversation.  And it worked.  Mom talked and talked about the Cattells, the Clemsons, the Ritchies, and as much as she could about the Kerns.  She added in a little about the Hendersons, but not too much.

However about other things she rambles and is confused.

Three cases were these:

When I taught high school classes, one of the issues we had for a couple of years was the students, especially the boys, wearing hats to class.  Most of the time it wouldn't have been an issue, but when big cowboy hats appeared and students couldn't see around them for note-taking or videos, when guys were pulling down the bills and sleeping during class, or when I couldn't see their faces when I was trying to help them with homework, something had to change.  "Hats off in the classroom" was the policy I adopted.  It was very simple - take the hat off before class started and place it under the desk or out of the way, then retrieve it when the bell rang.  I never took them.  I didn't touch them.  I didn't put them into my possession.  That lasted just a year or two, then there was a school wide "No hats" policy, and the problem was resolved.  Mom's version is different and I have heard it twice in the last couple of months.  She was telling the nursing assistants that I used to make my students put their hats in a box in the hallway, then their parents would get mad, and the parents would come in and yell at me.  None of that happened.  On Monday when she was relaying the story, I just smiled and shook my head and mouthed "That didn't happen" to the two gals standing in the doorway, and they understood.  Just let her talk. Correcting her wouldn't serve any purpose.  And overall, does it matter?  No.  It doesn't.

Mom was talking about Megan's wedding for some reason and recounted my anger before it started.  She said that I was so mad that I walked to the front of the church and pounded on the podium because the music was wrong and the programs weren't there.  I stopped her and told her that never happened, and she continued with Fred causing problems because he wanted his girlfriend to sit in the front of the church.  Gary chimed in then and explained that she was mixing up the two weddings, that Fred's 'girlfriend' was actually his wife, and that I was not yelling and pounding the podium before Megan and Matt's wedding. In fact we didn't think there were even a podium at the front of the church for either wedding!  She insisted that we were wrong and that it did happen because she remembered it happening in our church for one wedding or the other.  But it didn't matter.  She would ask Greta because Greta would confirm what she knew.  So what did I do?  Change the subject back to genealogy again.  She is just confused.  Does it matter?  No.  Will she ever be convinced that she is wrong?  No.  Does it make me mad?  No.  I know it didn't happen.  Gary knows it didn't happen. It didn't.

The final thing, for this post at least, is her visit to Dr. Gesler.  While Dr. Sardar was out of the exam room, she was explaining to us how she could take care of her bruised hip on her own.  She could rub cream on it.  She could take Tylenol.  She knew that one morning she would wake up and the pain would be gone.  In fact she had just been to see Dr. Gesler in the last 6-8 months and he said the pins were fine in her hip and nothing was wrong with her.  After she mentioned the Dr. Gesler visit a few times, I asked "Did Greta take you to that?  I don't remember her telling me about going to see Dr. Gesler."  Her response was this:  "No Greta didn't go with me. I went on my own.  I got in the pick up and drove myself to his office to see him and he said the pins were fine and I was perfectly fine."  Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mom.  So I said, "That couldn't have been in the last 6-8 months, Mom.  Dad's truck was wrecked nearly 3 years ago so that would have been before that."  She stopped.  She didn't understand.  She started to say something.  "No it was just a few months ago."  "No Mom. It was probably three or so years ago."  She stopped.  Then she said that time goes by so fast and she really couldn't remember because it seemed like it just happened.  Once again, dementia.  The look on her face was confusion.  I knew that dementia was working.  Is it a big deal that she said that?  No.  For many dementia patients, this is the norm.  They lose track of time, and some events that happened years ago seem like they just happened.  The big giveaway with Mom this time was the look in her eyes and the uneasy silence, then the act or trying to recover.

Muddled Memory is something we will have to deal with each time we visit Mom.  She will be confused.  She will insist that something she recalls just happened or that it happened the way she said.  The key is to smile, accept it, and move on.  Gary had to remind me of this with a couple of 'looks' and a slight jab to my leg when she was talking about Dr. Gesler.  Just nod and smile and move on.  If she had said it in front of Dr. Sardar and he were noting it on her chart, then that would have been difference.  But just casual conversation?  Not important.

Zip It!

I needed something to read and motivate myself during Lent.  I am not one for giving up anything.  I try, but my 'given up' object always creeps back in quickly.  For instance, yesterday I  thought it would be a good idea to give up diet drinks, and I remembered that as I was sipping my Diet Pepsi at Taco Bell today.  Well, I meant well.

Anyway I ordered Karen Ehman's book Zip It from Amazon.  It was suggested on Proverbs 31 as a good devotional for the Lenten season.  It arrived today, just in time to begin. 

Day 1 - A Matter of Life and Death.

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits.  Proverbs 18:21

Think about how something said to you has had a lasting effect, either positive or negative.  Whether we realize it or not, words are powerful and they have consequences. 

We can use our speech for good or for evil.

How we wield them will affect not only our relationship with others but our relationship with God.



Today's Takeaways:
--Words are like superglue.  Before you lash out at someone in anger or leak a little sarcasm from your lips, remind yourself that your words have not only power for good or evil, but they also have staying power.

--We have a choice.  Craft your emails, texts, and social media posts and comments with care.  Be conscientious, not careless.  Impart life; don't dole out death. (I try to do this with texts and social media.  Answering emails to students was very hard.  So many comments could be misinterpreted. )

One example I remember came from high school.    My guidance counselor tried to discourage me from being a teacher, saying I didn't talk enough. I was determined to prove her wrong, and I did!  Two degrees in education.  43 years teaching.  Several awards.  Many lives touched.  So her words did encourage me, but not the way she expected.

The other things I remember in the negative sense are mostly attributed to things my mother said to me--I have no common sense ( just a couple years ago).  You live in a dump (we remodeled our farmhouse years ago but she said this three years ago)  and many more. 

But I also have lots of good comments about my family, from my students, from my daughters, from my husband, from my friends. 

Words are meaningful and have staying power.  Choose them wisely.